


There's comfort in the way we are

by astano



Series: Seems Like I'm Not Alone in Being Alone [2]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-16
Updated: 2011-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:38:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astano/pseuds/astano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes comfort takes an unexpected turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's comfort in the way we are

The second time Naya turned up on my doorstep unannounced there was no awkwardness. She’d been crying, that much was obvious, her eyes were red-rimmed and weary. I pulled her through to my living area and we settled on my couch. Almost immediately she curled up into a ball by my side, one arm clutching around my waist and her head buried into my neck.

I ran my hand repeatedly over her back, drawing random patterns in an effort to calm. She whimpered a few times and I shushed her with nonsense sounds.

After a few minutes of quiet breathing she raised her head to look at me, I could see the image of my overhead light reflected in the tears that still threatened to fall from her eyes.

She almost choked on the words as they threatened to fully set off the fresh wave of tears but somehow still managed to get them out. “She’s getting married.”

I didn’t know what to say so I let my actions talk for me, pulling her a little closer and dropping a kiss in her hair.

“Can you- can you just make everything stop for a while?” She stuttered out. “Just make me forget?”

Could I? I didn’t know, but I would try.

I raised us both up off the sofa and led her through my apartment to my bedroom.

Once there, I undressed her slowly, letting my hands and lips caress revealed skin. I worked with purpose, allowing soft but sure touches to soothe and reassure first. I wanted to bring her fully into this moment, allow her nothing but the here and now.

When her trembling had subsided and her eyes were no longer threatening to overflow, I let my fingers move in different patterns. I drove her higher, to a place where the only things that mattered were the teasing strokes I painted over every inch of her body and the inferno I was slowly forming inside.

It wasn’t long until she was arching and gasping into me, her hips rocking and body trembling for entirely different reasons. I held her balanced on the precipice for as long as I could before allowing her to crash back down, all shuddering limbs and sharp cries.

Afterwards, I lay on my back as she curled into me and I hummed nonsense tunes until she finally slept. I drifted off not long after.

When I woke up in the morning she was gone.

xxxxxx

We almost slipped into a routine after that. When things got too overwhelming, Naya would arrive at my apartment and, for a little while, I would help her forget. I didn’t dwell too much on the ramifications of what we were doing. In the end, we were both adults, we were both using the other in a way. She got a few blissful minutes when pain dissolved into pleasure and I, well I got a warm body to fall asleep next to, another heartbeat to make me feel slightly less alone.

It worked. For a while.

The wedding had been and gone, with time, the pain reflected in Naya’s eyes became less, but, several times a week, I still opened my door to find her hovering outside. Sometimes she arrived with food, sometimes a movie and a bag of my favourite microwaveable popcorn, sometimes a bottle of wine, but always, we ended the night tangled in sheets, our skin slick with sweat as hands clutched and cries were drawn out of our mouths.

At some point she began staying the night. At some point she acquired the bottom drawer of my dresser. At some point her bright blue toothbrush took up residence next to my green one and a bottle of her favourite shampoo landed next to mine in the shower.

These things happened so gradually that neither of us noticed. I certainly didn’t notice until a long time afterwards the first time she came over and we _didn’t_ have sex. The movie was a long one, the Chinese take-out and subsequent bag of popcorn left us feeling overstuffed and drowsy so we crawled into bed and, without even thinking about it, took up our normal post-sex sleeping positions, drifting off in minutes.

When she turned up one evening only to tell me she was sick of being inside and wanted to go out and _do_ something it felt entirely natural to slip my arm through hers as we walked along the seafront. I didn’t think twice as she repositioned our arms later so she could reach down and intertwine our fingers.

After all, we’d done much more intimate things than hold hands, hadn’t we?

xxxxxx

As tends to happen with anything of importance, I was blindsided with the truth at the most inopportune time.

It was about eight months after the first time and I was sprawled limp on my side of the bed (yes, we had sides now and I was still living in denial), chest heaving as I tried to recover from my second mind blowing orgasm of the evening.

Naya looked glorious, hair mussed, sticking to her face in places, body glowing with a light sheen of sweat. Her breathing was almost as ragged as mine and the quick rise and fall of her chest made her breasts move with an almost hypnotic sway. Her mouth was quirked into a smug smile; leaving me a post-orgasm wreck of a human being almost seemed to give her as much pleasure as actually having an orgasm herself.

It was looking at her eyes that did me in. Sure, they were clouded with desire, but they were happy. She was happy. Laying there, basking in the euphoria of giving _me_ pleasure, she was happy, she was content and so was I.

It hit me then.

_Oh god, I love you._

Her eyes widened and she half sat up and I realised I must have spoken aloud.

I panicked, jumping up from the bed, stuttering apologies, trying to take back words I didn’t even know I felt. I didn’t even realise she had followed me in frenzied attempt to put distance between us until I felt her hand on my shoulder spinning me around to face her.

She cupped my cheek, bringing my darting eyes to meet her surprisingly composed ones. “Shhh,” she tried to calm me. “It’s okay, I already knew.”

“Y- you did?”

“Do you think I would have kept coming back if I didn’t feel anything for you?” She asked. “I was just waiting for you to figure it out.”

“Y- you were?”

She smiled and nodded, leading me back to the edge of the bed and folding me up in her arms.

“What happens now?” I questioned her.

“Whatever you want,” she replied. “We’re already past the hard part, we’ve been pseudo-dating for at least the last three months. We’ll figure things out.”

I nodded against her shoulder then looked up at her, a little surer now. “I love you,” I repeated, this time deliberately, even though my voice was still tinged with a slight sense of wonder at the discovery.

“I know,” she smiled, “I love you too.”


End file.
